Flowers bond us
by Sophie The Shipper
Summary: ' "Can you draw me a flower?" Parker asks, with that sweet child voice that hurts so much to say no to. ' Jonah draws on his skin. Parker wants a flower on his arm. A story is written! :) [One-Shot]


**Word Count:** _1514_  
**Summary**: _Flowers bond us._  
**Disclaimer**: _I don't own Superstore or the characters._

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Flowers bond us

When I was a kid I had the habit of drawing in my skin. At first, it was small things, a few tiny flowers that were barely noticeable and looked just a blob, a little sun, a heart. But as I grew up, the drawings were all over my arms, sometimes even my legs if I was that bored at classes.

You see, everyone sees me as a really smart person, someone that was probably super nerd at school was always paying attention and would be the one with top marks. And that's mostly true, except for the fact that I didn't pay much attention to the teachers, and wasn't really a nerd, although I could be easily found in the library reading a book.

To pass the time and not to bore myself or bother anyone, all I needed was a pen and to be at the back of the class, that I was entertained. There were too many drawings on my arms, drawings that I would cover up when I got home and would immediately wash off, but as I was in school I would proudly display them.

You might be wondering how I never got my ass beaten. Maybe that's because everyone wanted me to draw on them too. And that's how I passed school with great grades. By doing some tiny drawings – and sometimes really big ones on people's back – I would get access to tutoring from students who've had my teachers and knew how to copy, I would have people in my class passing me the answers.

Drawings. That's what saved me from boredom and making my parents disappointed.

When I went to college, I knew that it was all over. I couldn't have fun drawing on my skin because no one would help me pass anymore by drawing a few flowers. I needed to pay attention to it. But it was all so... boring! It was hard for me to get interested, and I found myself reaching for my pen to many times.

Once I dropped out and moved away when I found that Cloud 9 in I finally found a place where I didn't get bored. I basically just walked around talking to people and pretended to work. Anyone can do that.

I spent all my life pretending I was someone I wasn't. I wasn't a great student, I didn't care about school, and most importantly I wasn't the teacher's pet. In there I was someone that knew lots of facts – all those hours in the library paid off – and fought for a lot of causes. But sometimes I still draw with a pen I keep in my pocket, and I have tiny flowers spread around my upper arm, which are hidden by my clothes just like in high school.

But after many years of doing this in that store, I forgot one thing. To take them out when I got home.

For many years I cleaned them once I got home when I moved in with Amy. But today I forgot, and someone found out. Specifically, Parker.

We were both sitting on the couch watching a movie when he brought it up. It's not unusual to find him sitting on my lap when we're watching a movie, it would be unusual not to. He somehow saw the flowers and started to touch them, and asked why I had them. I could only smile with a surprised face, trying to find a way to cover up the fact that I do that a lot – Amy doesn't like seeing things written on the skin unless they are tattoos.

"I... I drew them."

"Why?" Once he asks this, I pause the movie knowing that none of us was paying attention, and I sigh.

"Don't tell your mom about this, okay?" He nods, so I continue. "I draw a lot of things in my arms."

"Why?"

"Because I like to."

He stops asking me things, but he clearly has a face that says he's thinking of what he could ask next.

"Can you draw me a flower?" Parker asks, with that sweet child voice that hurts so much to say no to.

"Park, you know your mom doesn't like drawings on your skin."

"I know. But if it's you, she won't mind." He has a mischevious look on his face, one that it was so clearly Emma who taught him. I give a smile, and I nod my head, telling him to get a pen.

He runs off giggling, happy. I know that Amy won't like it even if it was me who drew it, but she also knows that it would be harmless. I spent years doing it and it would only be a little one.

He comes back with a pen and I draw one really quick, but not as tiny as the ones I drew when I was younger. This was clearly a flower.

Amy gets home when I end the flower, and Parker runs to her, screaming.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look, I have a flower just like daddy!"

No matter how many times that kid calls me daddy, I can't help it but feel proud for that kid that isn't even mine but is almost as if he was. I smile at her and get up to give her a kiss, which makes Parker turn away for a second like he always does.

"What is he talking about?" Amy asks, and I only have the time to take a breath, before hearing Parker talk about how I draw a lot in my arms and that I drew him one in his arm. "You what?" She has that reproving look on her face, the one that makes me want to give a step back, but I stay put.

I raise my sleeve a little bit and show her all the drawings I made that day at work and forgot to clean. She shakes her head, and I thought she was going to yell, at least say something as if she was mad. But not, she doesn't.

"This is really nice." She's inspecting them up close, and Parker is looking at my arm too, almost fascinated.

"Really? You're not mad?"

"This is bad for your skin, you know that. But they are really nice. Where and when did you learn to draw like this?"

"School. When I was a kid." I was still surprised that she didn't seem to mind much about the flowers, especially the one I drew on her son.

"Mommy, you should have one too. So we are all with one!"

"Maybe I will. But now I need to eat, and you need to take a bath."

"He already showered, and food is in the oven, we were waiting for you to come home."

I knew she would like that. She always loves when I cook so she doesn't have to when she gets home from work, tired. And I don't mind, I actually enjoy cooking while Parker is looking at me and giving me the ingredients. And bath him basically baths me too, because he splashes a lot of water around – which was why I only had a t-shirt on when he found out about my drawings.

We eat in silence, except for when Parker starts to tell us something about what happened in kindergarten or last week when he was with Adam. And when Emma shows up later, after we are done with dinner, apologizing immensely because she got lost in the hours she spent in the library, we are still in silence, until Emma breaks it.

"That's a pretty flower. Who drew it?" Looking at her brother's arm, pointing at it.

"Daddy drew it! He has flowers too."

"What? He's kidding right?"

Amy just grabs my arm and shows her/our daughter my drawings, and Emma is really interested in looking at it, but then questioningly looks at her mother.

"Okay, so when I drew this on my arm as a kid, you would yell. But now you're okay with it? What changed?" If no one that knew was hearing her, they would almost think she was mad. But it was her personality.

"This is actually nicely drawn. You only had scribbles that could barely be called drawings."

We all laugh softly as Emma rolls her eyes, which only makes us all laugh even more.

Let's just say that the next day, Emma asked me to draw her a tiny flower on her wrist, and it was Amy's turn to roll her eyes. But guess who asked me to draw her one once the kids were out of the house? That's right. She no longer complained about drawings on the skin – unless they weren't made by me – and I continued to carry a pen with me.

Flowers bond us.

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**The End**

I'm honestly someone who is constantly drawing on my own skin, and my mom was always telling me that that it was going to make me sick or whatever. I never found any indication that it is, in fact, something "bad". :)

Hope everyone likes this!


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